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Hours: Lunch: Mon.-Fri. 11:30 a.m.-2:30 p.m. Dinner: Mon.-Thurs. 5:30-10 p.m.; Fri.-Sat. 5:30-11 p.m. Reservations accepted. Smoking in bar area; non-smoking lounge downstairs.
Prices: Lunch: appetizers $8-$16, main courses $13-$19. Dinner: appetizers $8-$18, main courses $21-$37, desserts $9, cheese plate $14.
Good Choices: Duck, pistachio and roasted pear terrine; soup of lobster, cauliflower and curry; crab and cucumber terrine; sauteed skate; wild striped bass; garlic and herb rubbed chicken; loin of venison; hot apple soup; chocolate tasting plate; red wine basted pear, star anise ice cream.
Credit cards: American Express, Diners Club, MasterCard, Visa, Carte Blanche
Access: Fully accessible.
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RADIUS
8 High Street
Boston
(617) 426-1234
Restaurant reviewed 03/04/99 by Alison Arnett
Radius came alive in downtown Boston in mid-December after much pre-opening fanfare. The trepidation from restaurateurs about this new mega-competitor was palpable for months in the city. It was as though the most infamous gunfighter in the West had swept through the saloon's swinging doors.
Owned by Christopher Myers and chef Michael Schlow, Radius lives up to expectations in the style department - it's perhaps the most conceptually aware restaurant I've seen in Boston. The menu covers alone, which resemble the latest Kate Spade hand bags, give it a cutting-edge cachet. The room - from the circle-within-a-circle shape, the dark gray cloth-like surfaces, the carefully positioned circles of lipstick red, the various veneers of exotic woods - is severely elegant, a space designed rather than decorated. "Look at us: Cool, too cool. Hot, too hot," the very walls cry out. It is cool - and a little self-conscious.
Schlow's food is just as stylish - and not at all self-conscious. Previously the chef at Cafe Louis, he infuses his food with a refined brawniness. From the first spoonful of an unusual lobster, cauliflower, and curry soup, there's no doubt of Schlow's boldness. The broth is thickened with pureed cauliflower so that the soup tastes as rich as cream but without fat. The curry is bright against the roof of the mouth and tiny squares of Granny Smith apples add an unexpected crunch and sweetness.
He often balances strength with delicacy. The sauteed local skate ranks among the best treatments I've tasted of this mercurial fish - which can be wonderful or drab depending on the skill and care with which it's prepared. The mild fish is played straight and then underpinned with an earthy mix of soft leeks, artichokes, and spinach. A lobster broth gives it depth and richness. And then as an irresistible fillip, there are these teensy-weensy balls that crunch slightly to the bite. They turn out to be potatoes, and in their almost effete form, they illustrate several things about Schlow's food - one is the just-this-side of fussiness of his garnishes. Each tiny cube of carrot or beet, each daub of red marmalade with a wonderful duck and pistachio terrine, each tiny spear of asparagus is cut to jewel-like precision. Leading to the next aspect of his food - the vegetables are almost always as delicious as the meat or fish.
Roasted wild striped bass is masterfully done so that the outside surface is crisp, the interior moist. But then it's hard not to rhapsodize, too, about the slender haricots vert and those baby artichokes with their hint of acidity that work so well against rich nuggets of foie gras. The carrots, turnips, and other root vegetables under the garlic and herb-rubbed chicken are deeply carmalized so that they give a definitely sweet tinge to the dish, offset by a crust that is just this side of fried chicken. Seared salmon with smoked bacon and lentils is accompanied by celery root puree so good it puts mashed potatoes to shame.
Not everything works as well. In an appetizer, the sweetbreads are overly crunchy, seemingly a waste of the meat's silken texture. And the mushroom and potato pave with them is too stiff. Roasted squab is excellent, although the shape is rather truncated-looking. But accompanying cabbage leaves filled with short rib meat fall flat because the cabbage is so tough.
The pork confit is something Schlow says is begged for by customers, but I'm not a fan - something about the shredded texture and the skim of sweetness is offputting. And a giant veal chop on the first menu was indeed large but rather boring, especially considering its $37 tab. Roast venison loin, which replaced it, is a much more interesting dish.
Myers has composed a thoughtful wine list - just reading it is fun; and although numerous bottles come with heady price tags, the more reasonably priced wines are interesting, too. I have to admit I wasn't unknown here, having met Este Benson, the general manager, and Myers many years before I began reviewing when both worked at Michaela's. But the wait staff, a legion of men and women in loose charcoal-gray designer outfits (the costumiere is listed on the menu), are certainly attentive and very well versed in the food and the wines. And Benson and Myers seem to watch the room like hawks.
Coming to Radius for dessert alone would be silly, I guess. But it would be worth it. Paul Connors, the pastry chef who has been with Schlow for years, has come into his own in this restaurant. The desserts are beautiful, very sophisticated, and they taste good - really good. A waiter brings a shallow soup bowl with a few candied pecans, medjool dates, and a tuille-shaped butter wafer filled with vanilla ice cream to the table and then pours in hot apple soup. The apple broth is fragrant; the ice cream blends ever so slightly, cold against hot, with the soup; the dates give a deeper note of sweetness; and the nuts crunch. It's heaven, although possibly not as heavenly as a chocolate tasting plate with milk chocolate pot de creme, another pot of white chocolate mousse, and a thrillingly vibrant chocolate sorbet. A frill of oven-dried anise gives an extra accent point to a pear roasted in red wine and served with a little black walnut cake and star anise ice cream.
Radius has some quirks that can be unnerving. Even after several visits, the fact that the front door and inner doors have not the least bit of signage made me stop, wondering if I was at the right place. The entryway is cramped, especially around the coat room; on one evening cold air whipped around into the curved dining area each time the door opened. And, although Myers spoke of all the measures taken to reduce noise in the room, it's hard to hear companions when the room fills at the height of the evening.
Those are minor annoyances, though, and as the staff and kitchen settle into their rhythms and the instant notoriety dies down, Radius shows every sign of strength - in its cuisine and its ambience. It will be a pleasure to watch it blossom.
Tips & hits
